The Story Of Finnick and Annie
by alson21
Summary: The story of Finnick and Annie, from the time they meet, until Mockingjay. All from Annie's POV. (I suck at summaries, sorry.)
1. The First Encounter

I watched as the waves rolled over my feet, taking the sand with it. Digging my toes father in, I let the water glide over them numerous times. At my side, I pictured my dad, drawing pictures in the sand. Unfortunately, he wasn't here. But, I longed for him to be.

Yesterday was my 10th birthday. It was odd, not having my dad there with me. It was my first birthday without him since the- accident. I longed for this aching pain to leave me. I wanted him here, but I wished he would stop haunting me. Everywhere I went, his smiling face came to my mind. If it wasn't his face, it was his eyes. Or his laugh. Or his voice.

My eyes wandered the shores. Out in the water, men in their boats fished, and kids jumped from the rocks. The thought of jumping from the rocks -into the water- scared me. Actually, it terrified me.

Down the shore, just a little way was a boy. His knees were curled up, and his hands were clenched in the sand. He looked familiar. I'm sure I'd seen him around the beach in the past. He must have been a few years older than me in school, and I'd seen him in the halls. I just couldn't put a name on his face. I stood up, so I could go say hi. The boy looked upset. Maybe he needed a friend.

I walked over, sitting down in the sand next to him. He had bronze skin, light curly hair, and sea-green eyes. He looked at me, a confused expression on his face.

"Hi," I said softly. "I'm Annie. Annie Cresta."

He looked me in the eye, for an intense second. I was sure he didn't like me. Was there something I did? There couldn't be. I had just met him. It took him a while to answer.

"Finnick Odair," he said quietly.

"Are you okay?" I asked him. He looked upset.

"No."

"Do you need a friend?" My mom always had told me that sometimes all someone needs is a friend.

"No."

"Is something wrong?"

No answer.

"What's wrong?" I repeated.

"Everything."

"I know what you mean." Honestly, I did.

"Doubt it," he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

I just let that pass. He didn't know me.

"So, did your girlfriend break up with you or something?" I asked, a little sarcasticly.

"I haven't got a girlfriend," he snapped. "I'm only 12."

I understood partially now. He was twelve, and his name was put in the reaping for The Hunger Games, two weeks from now.

"Oh, you're upset about the games." It was a fact, not a question.

"Partly."

"What about the other part?" I knew I was being nosy, and probably irritating.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Fine."

"Alright."

With that, I walked up the beach, through the meadow, and down the trail to my house. I was sure that was the last I was going to see of Finnick. At least I though it would be the last I would talk to him.

It was a Saturday morning. The sun was just peaking over the clouds. It had been a week and a few days since I first met Finnick on the beach. The air was crisp, and the wind caused my hair to blow in my face. Fog covered most of my veiw, and the ocean looked long and endless. The waves crashed over my toes, and once again, I tried to forget the pain I was still under. The beach was silent for now, but I knew it was just a matter of time until the shores began to load up with fisherman and children.

It wasn't until the fog cleared up a little, and the sun came out all the way until I realized the tan, light haired boy sitting down the shore. I had seen Finnick Odiar around school, and on the beach once and a while. He refused to even acknowledge me. Even though I knew he didn't want anyone to know he knew me, I still waved. I figured it couldn't do any harm to be nice to him.

I stood up, with no hesitation, to go walk over to him. My feet dragged in the cold, soft sand. There was a feeling in my stomach that Finnick wasn't going to want to talk to me. I guess I couldn't blame him. I'd been kid of a thorn in his side for the past week or so. I considered staying, planted, on my side of the beach, but I knew it was only a few days until the reaping. I at least wanted to wish him luck, morbid as it sounds.

I sat down next to Finnick in the sand.

"Hi, Finnick. I'm Annie. I don't know if you remember me or not." I was kind of hinting at the looks he gave me in the hall. I stook out my hand, in hopes that he would shake it.

"Annie," he grumbled, in apparent aggrivation.

"Did I do something? I'm just being friendly." I said it with an edge of irratation in my voice. What did I do?

"Just go away. I want to be alone."

"Please just answer me. I'm kinda getting sick of you ignoring me. I am a person. And I have feelings. And it makes me sad that you're ashamed to know me."

He sighed.

"Seriously, I'm not in the mood to talk."

"You're not in the mood to talk? Or you're not in the mood to talk to me?"

He though about this.

"Both," he admitted, a little rudely.

That hurt, bad.

I didn't answer. I just stood up, and walked away without a thought.


	2. The Reaping

Three days after my incident with Finnick, I found myself getting ready for the reaping. My sister, Cassandra was standing in front of the mirror, her eyes closed, and her hands shaking. Being 15, her name was in the reaping more times than she wished for. She had signed up for tesserae, also. Having my dad gone, my mom wasn't able to support us all by herself.

"Annie," Cassandra whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Could you... Put up my hair for me? Please?"

I was very good at doing hair. I had had years of practice, and it was a skill I was proud of. Of course, having your family make fishing nets for a living helped more than you would think.

"Of course," I smiled.

I moved over to her, and began twisting and braiding her hair swiftly. I pinned it up with hair pins, as I went. When I was done, I stepped back to admire my work. She examined it in the mirror.

"Beautiful. As always," Cassandra smiled at me.

"Thank you."

Just then, Mom came down the steps, wearing an old, faded gray dress. She wore this to the reaping every year.

I wore an old dress of Cassandra's. It came to my knees, and it buttoned up the front. It was a faded blue, and there were tears at the bottom. It was a little big on me, but it worked.

I couldn't help but feel nervous for Cassandra. The odds of her getting picked were really slim. She was clearly nervous, too.

Once we were all ready, we made our way outside, and down the few blocks to the front of the Justice Building. People sat on the hill, and there were two big screens on each side of the stage. People lined up, it was almost all of District 4, and there was no one talking. Eligible kids sat in the front, oldest closest to the stage, and youngest in the back. Parents and family sat in the front, and other people from District 4 with no ties to any of these kids, were closer to the back.

Casandra walked into line, grasping each of us in a hug quickly.

"I love you guys." Cassandra pursed her lips.

"I love you too," Mom and I said in unison.

With that, she was off to sit with the other 15 year olds in the middle of the group.

My mom and I found a spot, fairly close to the front of the family members. We were right next to the gap that separated the middle of people. Kids and family walked by, all with blank expressions on their faces.

I watched all of them, trying to take my mind off of the reaping. Some were more relaxed than others. There were some who were pale, and shaking and crying all at the same time.

It was a few minutes after we took our spot when a light haired, green eyed boy walked past me. He stared right into my eyes, like he was trying to say something. I think he felt bad about what he said to me the other day. I didn't wave or smile at him. I simply let him pass, and moved my eyes to the stage.

We waited as the last people filed in, and the District 4 escort came to the stage. She must have been new, for I didn't know her name, and she didn't look familiar.

She had long, green and silver hair, that was half tied up in a bow. Her face was unnaturally pale, and she had light tattoos across her body. Her outfit was even more extreme. She wore a frilly, wire skirt and a sparkled shirt, with sleeves that went way past her hands. Her heels were much to high for my taste, and I couldn't believe that's what the capital thought was 'trendy'.

The woman walked up to the microphone, tapping it once to test it. It made a clinking noise, and she backed away.

Then the video they show every year began to play. It reminisced of the fallen district, the war, and talked about how heroic the past victors are. I felt my jaw tense, watching it, along with my hands balling into fists.

The video was done, and I think it was supposed to be touching, because the escort wiped off a tear. If it was real or fake- I couldn't tell.

She jumped straight to business.

"Now, let us select one young man and woman for the honor to compete in the sixty-third Hunger Games!" She cleared her voice.

"Ladies first."

Walking over to the bowl, the silence in the square terrified me. She pulled out a slip of paper. Clicking her heels, she made her way back to the podium.

"Misty Rose."

I let out a sigh of relief. I think almost every other family with a daughter in the reaping did, also.

The girl named Misty walked up to the stage. She was small, but looked about Cassandra's age. I didn't recognize her, so I assumed she was from the other side of the District.

She walked up to the stage, tears in her eyes. A woman screamed, and a man held her back.

Misty stood beside the escort.

"Any volunteers?"

Thankfully for Misty, a girl rose her hand, without a second thought.

The reaping went on, and a boy named Kale volunteered for the scrawny boy who was picked.

We left right away, and met up with Cassandra on our way out. I gave her a hug, smiling. She was a lot more relaxed than she was earlier.

We went home, ate some clams for dinner, and I walked down to the beach.

I sat down in my usual spot, and scanned the shore. There was no one else out here. Just me.

I stood up, walking towards the deep blue ocean. It was cooling off. The sun would begin to set in just a matter of minutes. The sky was already darkening.

Wading knee-deep in the calm water, I curled my toes into the sand, closing my eyes. I thought about my dad and how I wished he was here. I thought about how thankfull I was that Cassandra's home, and not on her way to the capital. I thought about Finnick, and how rude he's been to me. Why did I even try?

Even though it was evening, the late may air was warmer than usual. I walked out a little farther. Then, I walked out even farhter. At the time, I didn't know what I was doing. By then, the water was to my shoulders. I continued walked, my eyes stil closed. The water was to my chin. Over my mouth. I let go once it was past my nose. It was like I couldn't remember how to swim. I had been swimming for eight years, and I couldn't remember how to keep myself above water. Maybe I didn't have the will to do it. The last thing I remembered is blacking out.

I woke up with a green-eyed boy sitting above me in the sand.


	3. Rescued

I find myself gasping for breaths in between coughs, looking at Finnick, who's leaning over me. His green eyes are wide and alert. I couldn't remember what happened. Did I really drown? Water flies out of my mouth, my throat is dry and breathing is a struggle. After a few minutes, my breaths aren't as sporadic, and my airway's opened up.

I sit up, and Finnick sits there with a blank expression on his face. I can't tell if he's upset, or what. He finally turns to me, and I can see his startling eyes, even though it's dark.

"What the hell, Annie? You're lucky I was down here, because otherwise, you might as well be dead!"

"Sorry." My voice came out in a whisper.

He just stared at me with a look of disbelief. I was in too much shock to say anything.

The only thing I could remember is the darkness under the water. I don't know why I did it. It was stupid, giving up my life like that. I didn't want to die. I'd never even though of it.

"Just tell me," Finnick looked to me, his voice low. "Were you trying to kill yourself? Did you want to die? If you did...Why?"

I sighed.

"I didn't know what I was doing. I wasn't trying to kill myself, I'll tell you that."

"Then why did you do it?" His voice was cracking. He did think I was suicidal.

"I don't know. I wasn't thinking! My mind went blank and I... I really don't know what I was doing."

Tears were now welling up in my eyes. My voice was cracking. I was scared, because I honestly don't know what happened. I zoned out, and almost killed myself. What if that happened again and Finnick isn't here to save me?

I bury my head in my head, shaking with sobs. Finnick lets me cry, and doesn't try to comfort me. I'm glad he doesn't, because that would have made it even worse.

Once I've composed myself a little more, he lifts my hands down from my face.

"You lost your dad too, didn't you?" He says it like fact, not a question.

I give him a small nod.

"Sorry I was such a jerk."

I just sit there, staring at the water.

"I guess I can forgive you. I kind of owe you, anyways."

"Good," he smiles. "Friends?"

"Friends."

He stuck out his hand, and I shook it.

From that moment, Finnick and I were friends.

**[A/N: Sorry this was really short. Next one will be longer, and more interesting. Please review! Any input is good! I'll try to update as soon as possible. Thanks for reading and reviewing.]**


	4. Storms and Smiles

It was December, and Finnick and I had been friends for a few months now. Every Saturday we went to the beach, no matter what. Some days, he would go to the beach, when it was later. I went there almost every night, as I always did.

I was sitting on the beach, my feet far from the water. It was too chilly to sit with my toes in the water. I wore a long sleeved shirt, with a pair of shorts. The wind was blowing my dark and wild hair into my face. The waves were so high, they had white caps on them. Most of the time, District Four didn't have winds that caused white caps on the water. When it was windy enough, it was in the winter

I had been on the beach for almost an hour, and I could tell it was almost ten or so. It was hard to tell, though, because the sun was hidden behind the thick, gray clouds.

Just then, a smiling boy came to sit by me.

"Hey, Fin." I gave him a smile.

"Hey."

He lay his head back on the cold sand, looking at the eerie clouds.

"It's going to rain, soon." Finnick pointed it out, as if it wasn't obvious.

"I know," I looked at him.

"Good for you." Finnick said it sarcastically, and I laughed.

We sat there for a second, in the quiet.

"Are you seriously only ten? I mean, you look like a ten year old, kind of. But most of the ten year olds in the district are running around and screaming all obnoxiously. You're so calm, and... Not annoying."

"Last time I checked, I was ten...But thanks...I guess." I giggled.

"My pleasure." He flashed me a grin.

I rolled my eyes.

It was then, when the rain began to fall.

It started with a rumble, a few sprinkles, and then a full downpour all at once.

"Are you kidding me?" I screamed.

"No, I think this is for real..." Finnick laughed. He spread out his arms, letting the rain soak him.

"What on earth are you doing? You're insane!" I didn't even know if he could hear me over the roaring of the storm.

My clothes were now drenched, and so were Finnick's.

He walked up to me, grinning.

"You're no fun." He was almost taunting me. I was fun, sometimes. He walked up to me, still chuckling.

I give him a look, furrowing my eyebrows.

"Sorry, but I only speak the truth." He gives me a wink, and I just rolled my eyes.

The rain was falling down even harder now, and I wasn't concerned about my clothes anymore.

For as long as the storm allowed us to, Finnick and I ran in the rain, laughing and smiling like there was nothing wrong. In that moment, we were really only a twelve year old and a ten year old. Maybe my true age was shining through. I secretly hoped so.

As the rain began to die down, I found my hands and feet clammy, and my legs and dress covered in muck. My mom was going to be angry, but I didn't care. This is what being a kid was about, right? Living in the moment and making mistakes.

Finnick started walking up the beach, to the trail that lead to my family's very small cabin. I attempted to brush off the mud, but it just stuck to my skin and my clothes.

"Don't worry about it. If your mom gets mad, just tell her I pushed you in a mud puddle." Finnick said it like he knew what I was thinking. I suppose he did, too.

I just shrugged.

"It's part of being ten, I suppose." I mimicked his wink he always gives me, and he just chuckled.

"Oh, Annie Cresta, what am I going to do with you?"

"You're probably gonna throw me in another mud puddle, that's what."

"I can make that happen, if that's your wish..."

"Hmmm... I think I might have to pass... Thanks for the offer, anyways."

"My pleasure."

We walked for a little more, teasing each other and laughing as we did so. It was so easy to talk to Finnick. Sometimes, if a silence came along, I knew he didn't care. I knew I didn't mind it either. Silence can be louder than words are, sometimes. That's something my dad taught me. My dad was full of all kinds of wise words. Now, looking back, I wish I would've listened to him.

Finnck came to a stop as we approached the back of my house.

"See ya, Annie." He gave me a smile, and turned to walk away.

"If anything goes wrong, It's on you!" I yelled with a laugh. Finnick stopped for a second, but then continued walking, his chest rising and falling with his chuckles.

** [A/N: I'M SO SORRY THESE CHAPTERS ARE BORING. PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP ON ME. I KNOW A LOT OF YOU WANT FANNIE, BUT I CAN'T REALLY DO THAT UNTIL THEY'RE GROWN UP. AND I CAN'T SKIP THROUGH THE WHOLE STORY. PLEASE KEEP REVIEWING! I FEEL LIKE YOU GUYS AREN'T REALLY LIKING IT, AND PLEASE LET ME KNOW THAT YOU GUYS WANT ME TO CONTINUE, BECAUSE I'M FEELING GOOD ABOUT HOW THIS WILL LAY OUT IN THE END. THANKS GUYS.]**


	5. Gone

Two years had passed. I was now 12. Finnick was 14. It was the day of the reaping. Cassandra was already dressed and ready. So was my mom. Cassandra had just two more reapings, counting this one.

I sat down on the kitchen floor, my eyes staring at a crack in a board.

"Annie, you have to get dressed. Now." Mom hardly ever raised her voice at me, and I was surprised it was now she did so.

Cassandra walked over, lifting me off my feet. It was that year that my mom finally brought out a new dress. This one was a light brown-almost white. I kept my dark, curly hair down, letting it fall to the small of my back. I slipped on the dress, and Cassandra buttons the back. I twisted the rope bracelet on my wrist. She reached for my hair, and I swatted away her hand.

"Don't."

She looked down, sighing.

We walked out the door, into the crowd of people. My eyes scanned desperately for Finnick. It had been over a week since I'd last seen him, which was on my birthday. He had been busy the past couple months, helping the man across the street fish. Apparently Finnick was very good at it. I at least wanted to see him before the reaping. I knew he was really nervous. He had only signed up for a few tesserae, but he was still nervous. I don't know if he was more nervous than I was.

` We made our way into the square, and I was pulled into the group with the other twelve year olds. My eyes roamed the crows for the green-eyed boy. There was too many people, and I couldn't see over the thirteens.

Right then, the escort, Bubbly Poleward began to talk, giving the same speech as always. I knew I probably should have been listening for her, but I couldn't help but keep looking for Finnick. If I knew where he was, that would make me feel much better.

The video began to play, and for the ten minutes it did so, I didn't watch any of it. My eyes flew in all directions,

Once the video was done, I fixed my eyes on the front. I felt as though I was about to vomit up my insides.

"Now, let's select our male and female tributes. Ladies first." She smiled like it was nothing.

She walked over to the big, glass bowl. I swear I could hear each and every heartbeat in the square it was so quiet. It only scared me more.

She pulled out a slip, returning to the middle of the stage. Unrolling it, she read it aloud.

"Pearl Clearwater." I didn't recognize her, but I knew she was from one of the very rich families across the district. Perhaps that was why there were no volunteers.

The girl walked up, in her stunning white and silver dress. Her face was pale, and she was shaking. I knew she was sixteen from the section she came from.

She stepped up next to Bubbly,and the escort gives her a smile.

"Now, let us pick our male tribute."

Bubbly walks over to the clear bowl, and my heart is racing almost as fast as it was before- maybe faster.

Walking back to the podium, she reads the name aloud.

"Finnick Odair."

Whispers arose, and my breathing was fast and unsteady.

"No no no no no no," I whispered under my breath.

My eyes filled up with tears, and I covered my face, trying to hold in the sobs.

The green-eyed boy I had been searching for stood still, a space made for him in the center of the group. He didn't even look scared. Why didn't he look scared?

"Finnick," I said, my voice broken.

He turned to me, giving me a look of reassurance.

Walking up the stage, to the podium, both victors were introduced. There were no volunteers, and I didn't understand why. Why this year out of all years?

As soon as I could, I ran as fast as my legs would carry me to the justice building. I was Finnick's best friend. They would have to let me say good-bye.

I waited, as his mom and sister were the first to be let in. I waited the five minutes, until they were thrown out by peacekeepers.

They let me in, and I threw my arms around Finnick, sobbing into his chest.

"I'm so sorry, Fin."

"Annie, it's not your fault."

I knew it was a bad time, but it was now, when I realized how tall and strong Finnick had become.

"You know you could win. You're strong, fast, and good at about everything."

"Thanks Annie. The odds of me getting out are small."

"It's still possible. Please, promise me one thing."

"It depends what it is."

"Don't lose your humanity."

He furrowed his eyebrows, but nodded.

He leaned forward, kissing my forehead. I inhaled his shirt, because I knew this could be the last time I ever got to see him.

I pulled away, reaching for the bracelet on my wrist. I unhooked it.

"Can you take it? As your token I mean."

He looked at me, taking it and hooking it on.

"Another thing. Please win for me. I don't know what I would do without my best friend."

He pulled me into his chest., once again.

"I'll do everything I can. I have something to ask of you, also."

"Anything," I promised.

"Take care of my family. Make sure they're okay, and they aren't starving to death."

"Alright."

"Thank you, Annie. For everything."

Just then, the guards came storming in. I got what I was sure going to be my last encounter with those deep green eyes.

"Goodbye Annie. Take care."

"See you soon," I responded.

I could tell he was trying to hold back tears, for me. His lips were pursed, and his eyes were wide.

The door was slammed, and I fell to the ground, not sure what to do. I was broken.


	6. Best-Friend-Less

The next two days included me, sitting hopelessly against the house in the rough sand. The only time I came inside where for necessary reasons. These reasons included eating, sleeping, using the restroom, and watching mandatory capital specials. These specials included the opening ceremonies, interviews, and giving out scores. All week, they had coverage of the games playing the square. If it wasn't about scouting the contenders, it was about previous games. They showed gruesome clips of victors beating the other remaining tribute, until they were crowned. It included recaps upon recaps that I couldn't bare to watch.

As I promised Finnick, I went to go visit his family, in the day before the opening ceremonies. I got there, and they were a wreck. I think his mom was in denial, and his sister was just in tears. Brooke was 8. She was poised and beautiful. If it weren't for her size, you would think she was as old as I. Coral, Finnick's mother, had a kind of grace to her that was irreplaceable. Her hair was golden, with strands of gray showing at the roots. Her eyes were blue, unlike Finnick's. Under her eyes were bags. Her face was tight, and she looked tired.

I walked into the house, sliding the door open slowly.

Coral looked to me, sighing.

"Annie," she smiled a little. She stood up from her fixed position on the wooden chair, pulling me into a warm embrace.

"Mrs. Odair." I gave her a smile.

"Call me Coral, as I always tell you." She pursed her lips.

I was surprised when Brooke came over, wrapping her arms around me.

"Thank you for coming. It was very lonely here."

I sighed.

"It's lonely at my house, too." Coral nodded, letting me go.

"Annie, please sit. Have some tea."

I had been in Finnick's house only a few times before. Finnick had invited me in once or twice. The Odair's house was small, but bigger than mine. Like mine, it felt hollowed out, and it was missing a big part of what made it feel like home.

"Thank you,"

I sat down at the table. There were three chairs, and I was sure this was Finnick's seat I was sitting in.

Coral stirred the tea, placing it in front of me.

"Finnick really cares about you, you know. You're the only one who made- ahem – makes him feel safe." I felt the corners of my mouth twitch up, and I looked at her.

"Coral... I have this feeling... That Finnick is going to come out alive. He's a fighter, and he's stronger than anyone I know."

Coral looked to me, slowly pulling down her head.

"Thank you Annie, I'm glad someone has faith in him. Since he's so young... No one thinks he's gonna make it even a day in the arena."

I give her a smile smile, an ache in my chest at fake hope she's releasing.

"Annie, would you like to stay for dinner?" Coral asked me, hopefully.

"I would love to. If that's okay with you both."

"Annie, you're welcome here any time."

"Thank you, Coral."

I took a sip of the tea, my hands trembling.

"We're having mussels for dinner. It's not the best, but it's all we have." Coral puts her head down, almost as if she's ashamed.

"That sounds great," I say.

As Coral cooks dinner, we talk about things to take her mind off of her son. I know Finnick is on both of our minds, but no one mentions him. We eat dinner, and it's silent as we do so. Brooke only takes a few bites of her mussels, which is weird, because I'd imagine her to be very hungry.

"Aren't you hungry, Brooke?" Her mother asks with a worried expression.

Brooke shakes her head.

"Why not, dear?"

She shrugs.

"Hm." Coral lets it pass.

I know I shouldn't say anything, but I do anyway. "Are you worried? About your brother?"

Coral looks up from her food, and Brooke closes her eyes, nodding quietly.

" Are you scared he's going to get hurt?" I ask.

She holds her wavy brown hair to her nose, shaking.

"Kind of," she lets her hair go. "I'm also scared he's going to hurt people."

I sigh, "Me too. I know Finnick is able to win. But I don't know if he can do it without hurting people. I wish there was a way. I think it's wrong, too. But Fin is going to do everything he can to come back to us.

Brooke nods, smiling. Coral sits motionless, staring at her plate. I wonder if I upset her.

I finish my meal, and then help Coral clean up afterward.

"I'm going to head out now," I say after the dishes are all washed.

"Are you sure?" Coral asks, "You can stay here if you'd like."

"No, thank you. I should probably get home. My mother is probably wondering what's taking me."

Coral purses her lips, nodding.

"Please come again, Annie." Brooke pulls me into a hug, shaking. She lets go after a minute or so, holding on for longer than she normally would.

Coral pulls me into a hug, also shaking with tears. Then I find myself crying, too.

"I'm so sorry Coral," is all I can get out.

"It's not your fault, but thank you."

With that, I leave the Odair home, tears blurring my vision The only thing I can think is, _"What am I going to do if I lose Finnick?"_ Because, I honestly don't have a clue.


	7. The Games

Everyone's confidence in Finnick has risen to a high, when he practically charms the pants off the Capital as a whole. He looks striking in his costumes, even though I'm traditionally against anything the Capital has put together. He talked with poise during his interview, with just a smudge of flirtatiousness—directed at the young females of the Capital. I know Finnick, and he doesn't care about those girls. He's going to do everything in his power to make it back to his family. To everyone's surprise, Finnick was able to score a 10 in his training.

The night before he's headed into the arena is yet another where I don't sleep. There's an ache in my stomach, and I find myself silently shaking with sobs. My bed is cold, but I'm sweating and rolling around restlessly.

The sunlight is what gets me out of bed. I make my way to the square, where they have dozens of screens set up, so we can watch the tributes suffer from multiple different angles. Great.

I stand in the lonely square, and people slowly file in, worried looks on their faces. I don't know if I can watch this, but I know I should—because I'm worried for Finnick. Claudius Templesmith and another announcer who I just can't place, are talking about children dying as if it's something to enjoy.

I'm shaking and crying, as they show Finnick and Pearl rising in their tubes to the starting block. Finnick looks helpless, and Pearl has this look of pure terror on her face, and I can see every part of her trembling.

"Come on Finnick," I whisper to myself, hopelessly.

The clock began to tick down, and a thick, robotic voice filled the silenced square. Finnick's face was shown from multiple angles, all of which showed a brave face. He had his eyes on something in the midst of the cornucopia, but I couldn't tell what it was.

After what felt like forever, the gong sounded, and they were off. About twenty yards in front of him, Finnick scooped up a pack of knives. Blood splattered behind him, and screams of children emerged in the air. He turned around right away, as a thick girl who was most likely a career paced towards him, a spear in hand. Finnick was fast, though. He began to run down the valley, and up the valley, and he didn't stop.

The games continued, and for the next two days, Finnick was safe. He didn't kill anyone, and there was a total of what looked to be ten kids left. Pearl, on the other hand, didn't make it past the first day. She was killed by two careers, who turned their back on the frail teen.

Finnick was suffering, though. You could tell he had no use for the small knives, and he wanted something desperately. A trident. Word around the street was that sponsors from both District Four, and the Capital were putting enough money to get him what he needed.

And that's exactly what they did. With ease, Finnick was able to Find some rope. He made nets, trapped his prey, and stabbed them without a thought. Every time he did so, it would make me cringe. I knew it was necessary, but it still irked me.

The time came to there being only two people left—Finnick, and the big girl from District 2. The girl was ruthless, as it turned out to be. She caught Finnick across the arm with her knife, but Finnick had her beat by miles. He gave her an elbow to the neck, pinning her down. With that, he drove the trident straight through her heart.

He was coming home.


	8. You Can Call It Love

I was shocked that Finnick hadn't gone completely mad from the games. It usually happened that once you come from the games, you go mad. I knew that inside, Finnick was falling apart. You could see it by the poorly hidden bags under his eyes, and the way he twitched uncontrollably at times. He didn't want to talk to anybody, but he didn't seem to mind having me around.

For the first month or so, when Finnick walked the streets of town—usually to go to the market to trade fish he had just caught, people would congratulate him on winning the games. This infuriated him.

"Why are they congratulating me for killing innocent people? They should be trying to kill _me," _he would say.

"I'm so sorry," I would say, draping my small arm around him.

He then would look down remorsefully, and we would walk to the beach, as we always did.

When he wasn't getting congratulated, he was being followed by groups of swooning, beautiful women. It was actually quite sickening, as some of the women were much too old for Finnick.

Finnick handled everything with a sense of maturity and courage. He went throughout his day, with not a single word about the games. He kept a brave face—smiled for the cameras, was polite to the adoring (yet annoying) fans, and acted as if nothing happened.

When Finnick came off the platform, he rushed into his mother and sisters arms, tears filling his eyes. He then turned to me, and hugged me as he shook with tears. It took everything in me to stay strong and not break down as well.

For the next few months, I was Finnick's leverage. I was the only one who could bring him back, when he would zone out and start shaking. However, as time progressed, we got the old Finnick back. Truthfully, I was fine with either Finnick, as long as he was alive.

As time passed, things slowly returned to normal. Before we knew it, it was time for the Victory Tour, which poor Finnick had been dreading. But when he got on the stage, it was as if he'd spent his whole life up there. He stopped speaking at just the right time, he smiled, winked, and yelled at the right times. He was amazing, and I partially understood the young girls who chased him. Not fully, though.

It felt like an eternity until Finnick came back. It had only been two weeks or so, but he came back a few days later. When he returned, he flew his arms around me in a desperate manner.

"What happened?" I asked.

He pulled away.

"Nothing worth your time," he whispered.

Finnick looked sad—regretful. Something had happened, but I had a feeling Finnick didn't want to talk about it.

Before I knew it, I was 13, and it was time for yet another reaping. Every other month or so, there would be a day Finnick would have to fly to the capital to take care of some "business". I never asked about it, as he never wanted to talk about it.

Another year passed, and once a month turned into every month. That turned into twice a month. Every time Finnick came back, he looked worse.

"Finnick," I said firmly. "What's going on?"

I looked into the almost grown man's eyes, which looked remorseful.

"Annie," he said, brushing the hair behind my ear away with a smooth thumb, causing my heart to flutter. "Before I tell you, there's something else you should know before I say it."

"What is it?" I asked.

"I love you," he said it like it wasn't obvious.

"Yeah, we're best friends. I love you, too," I smiled.

"No, Annie. Not like that."

My heart stopped in my chest.

"Well, what do you mean, then?"

"I love you, as I'm _in _love with you."

Tears began to well in my eyes, and I was doing my best to hide the big grin on my face. If it wasn't already obvious, I was in love with him too.

I looked into those sea green eyes, and did something that shocked even me. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, went on my tiptoes, and pressed my lips to his.


	9. Secrets

Finnick understood me in a way no one else did. He knew when I needed space, and he knew when I needed a hug. He treated me like I was a queen, and I was on a cloud when I was with him. When I wasn't with him, I wished I was.

One day, I was sitting down on the beach, my head in Finnick's lap. Finnick was playing with my hair, which was now to my waist. I needed to get it cut, desperately, but Finnick insisted that I keep it long, because he loves to play with it.

"Is it hard to sleep?" I look up to Finnick, my eyes squinting in the bright sunlight.

"Sometimes," he admits. "During the day, it's not too bad. It's at night when it's the worst."

"I'm sorry," I tell him, reaching up for his cheek with my hand that isn't entwined with his.

He leans down, planting a kiss on my forehead.

"I love you Annie," he smiles. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"And I, you."

He kisses my right cheek, my nose, and then I crane back, so his lips touch mine. It was a sweet kiss, but it was certain, as well. It had been a year since Finnick and I declared our feelings for each other. Finnick still has to leave for the capital every other week or so. He has to go mentor in the games every year, which makes it that much harder for him.

Another week passed, and with that, Finnick was off to the Capitol for yet another party, but he promised to be back before sunrise. He also promised to come to my house as soon as he returned.

He kissed me goodbye, with a look of despair in his eyes.

"I'll see you later," he promised.

I just nodded, giving a faint smile. I wasn't happy with this situation, but I did my best not to make him feel guilty about it.

It felt like ages before he finally came back, and when he did, something wasn't right. I could smell perfume on him, and in the faint streetlights, I could tell that he had tears in his eyes, and his hair was flying all over the place.

"Finnick. What is going on?" It less of a question, but I'm demanding an answer.

"I've been trying to tell you," he whimpers, backing up from his leaning position on the door frame.

"Tell me what?" My lip is trembling, and I feel like someone just twisted my insides in a complete knot.

His breaths are short, and I he's shaking with tears. I force myself to take a breath. There's no way Finnick's cheating on me. We've been through too much.

"It's okay. You can tell me," I said, grabbing his hand reassuringly.

"Can we go outside, I don't want to wake your family."

He dragged me outside, holding my hand so tight, it makes my fingers throb. He pulls me into the mass of palm trees behind my house. The oceans right down the meadow, and even from here, I can hear the waves crashing.

"Fin, what's going on?" I asked.

"President Snow...he threatened me. Told me he would kill my family if I didn't do as he asked. He would kill you, too."

"What did he ask you to do?" I'm getting nervous now.

"He sells me..." he looks down at his bare feet, "to women in the Capitol."

For a minute, I sit in silence. My shaky breaths fill the air, and I close my eyes. I look at the sand between my feet, and then look up at Finnick's face—hurt and confused. Sometimes I forget he's only 17—between his strength, and even his facial features—but in times like this, it's easier for me to tell.

"Nothing you just said to me," I decided, "makes me love you any less. I love you more than I did yesterday, actually. And I will love you more tomorrow, and the day after that." I then reach up to Finnick's face, and he pulls me up into a deep kiss, that lasts almost as long as the night, and leaves me craving more.


	10. No Words Needed

Finnick and I were closer than ever. We would lie on the beach, in the summer air, talking about everything and nothing at the same time.

Finnick would lay in the sand, and I would rest my head on his chest, my arm draped across him.

"Did you know that in the Capital, they have drinks...that make you throw up? They have them at parties, so you can eat whatever you want, and never get full," Finnick states, a tone of disgust in his voice.

"That's repulsing." It really is, too.

"People in the Districts are starving. We have enough to live off of, and always have. But what about families like the Banks, who have seven kids, who all have to sign up for tesserae? It's horrible."

I nuzzled my head farther into his sweater, which was soft and warm. He wrapped his arms tighter around me and leaned down, softly placing his lips on the top of my head. His fingers traced the skin at the small of my back, and his fingers gently brushed the skin at the small of my back, giving me goosebumps. His hand rubbed up and down my back, making me shiver and ache all over.

I put my elbow in the sand, and grabbed his cheek with my other hand. I leaned down, planting kisses up and down his neck, his ears, his cheeks, and finally his mouth.

I can feel the goosebumps on Finnick's arm, and I can't help but grin to myself a little.

"What are you grinning about?" Finnick asked between kisses.

"Nothing," I whisper, my mouth a fraction away from his. He leans in again, and pulls me up, so we're sitting down, our legs entwined. He holds my face gently, and pulls back a second, to open his eyes.

I'm sure I have a look of confusion on my face.

"Finnick-" I start, but he cuts me off.

"You're so beautiful, Annie. I love you. So much, it hurts."

"You're making me blush," I say, not even trying to hide the smile on my face.

"Good," he says against my cheek, leaving kisses against my cheek, and my neck.

The rest of the evening continues like this, until the wind starts to blow. Then, we decide it's probably best to go back and eat, before our mothers get worried.

"Annie, why don't you come eat dinner with me? I think my mother's out at the market late today, so it's just Brooke and I for dinner. Come eat with us."

I thought about this for a second. Cassandra was home with mother, helping her with work. So surely mother wouldn't be alone for dinner. I just had to let her know I was with Finnick, and she normally supported that.

"Sure, just let me go talk to my mom, make sure it's okay." I give Finnick a smile, taking his hand in mine.

Together we walk up the beach, almost in a skip. Finnick still has things that cause him pain and sleepless nights, but I'd like to think that for now, everything's close to okay.

I swing open the door of our tiny little house, and find my mom and Cassandra, standing in front of the fire, with a pot with something bubbling in it. Next to Cassandra stood a man. Their hands were entwined. I hadn't seen this man before, but I felt I should have at least heard of him.

"Cassandra. Angela," Finnick smiles at them both.

"Finnick, it's so great to see you." Both Cassandra and my mother rushed over to him, to give him a hug. "How have you been?"

"I'm doing fine. And you?" He looked to both of them.

"We're good," Cassandra said for the both of them.

"I'm sorry, but I have no idea who this is." I motioned to the tall man attached to my sister.

"Annie. Don't be so rude!" My mother scolds.

"I'm not being rude, I'm just asking a question. Who is he?"

"He's my fiance. His name is Richard Bay. He's a fisherman from the eastern part of the District. I met him when I traveled there to go sell at the market."

"Interesting. How long ago did this happen?" There's a tone of aggravation in my voice, that I, _her sister, _haven't heard about this man yet.

"This was about a year ago."

"A year? A whole year? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't think I'd like to have this conversation in front of our guests."

"Well he's your fiance, and that's your mother, and I'm going to tell Finnick what you say anyways, so I don't see the difference." My voice is just plain rude now, and I know I'm making everyone uncomfortable. I'm scared that Finnick is ready to leave, but then he grabs my hand, and gives it a reassuring squeeze, and my mom looks down to our hands, and back up to me and down to our hands again.

"Annie, I think you're getting out of line. I'm introducing you to him now, and that's all that matters. You didn't even talk to him yet."

I give him a look.

"I'm sorry, this has nothing to do with you. It's a pleasure to meet you." I held out my hand, and he tentatively shakes it, not sure if I'm being sarcastic or sincere.

"Annie, why don't you go take a walk?" My mother suggests.

"Actually, the reason I originally came here was to ask if I could have dinner with Finnick and Brooke, but it's clear you're fine with me going, so I'll just be on my way. Have a great night."

With that, I pull Finnick outside, and he shuts the door behind him.

"Oh my, I've gone mad. Really, really mad," I whisper, walking a bit, with my head in my hands. Before I know it tears are running down my cheeks and I'm grasping my hair for dear life.

The tears turn into full blown sobs, and Finnick grabs my arm, and pulls me into a secure hug—which is just what I need. I'm shaking, and his head is dug into my shoulder. His thumb is rubbing circles around my shoulder, and I sigh, pulling back and looking up at him.

"I just can't believe she wouldn't tell me about him. I mean...I'm her sister! We tell each other literally everything. And it's not like it's just a boyfriend, it's her fiance, who I'm going to see for the rest of my life. To add to that, she won't even have a conversation in front of him. It's not like I was just going to start trashing him, I'm not that bad of a person. And now she thinks I'm crazy. I just don't know what to do, because I just can't stand her half of the time, and that's not something I should be saying about my sister and-"

Before I know it, Finnick's lips are on mine, and I've forgotten what I was even talking about. He pulls away before my preference, but I let it go, and we keep walking.

"Better?" He asks, a little smugly.

I elbow him in the waist, and he just laughs, his green eyes twinkling.

We get to his house, and he opens the door for me. Finnick—being a victor—lives in Victor's Village. His house is huge, and he doesn't really like it. But the Capital insisted on him living in the house, and being grateful. Finnick had a lot to say about that.

No matter how many times I go to Finnick's house, I can never fathom how big it is, in comparison to mine. There are five bedrooms I think, two bathrooms, a dining room, living room, kitchen, a sun room, and a study. When we get there—12 year old Brooke already has salmon on the stove—which just happens to be Finnick's favorite thing to eat.

"Annie!" Brooke almost squeals, as I walk in the door. She runs across the kitchen, and through the living room to give me a hug.

"It's nice to see you," I said, because it really was. Brooke was like the little sister I never had.

With that, Brooke continued cooking, and Finnick and I helped chop vegetables and set the table. We ate dinner, while making small talk. Brooke did most of the talking, and was quite amusing. She really liked to embarrass Finnick and I, by asking things about us getting married and having babies, and I blush at the thought. It's not like it hasn't crossed my mind that I would one day marry Finnick. I hope we get married one day. I can't imagine being with anyone else, honestly.

Then Brooke talks about how Susie saw us kissing on the street a couple weeks ago, before Finnick had to leave for the Capital. Finnick and I laugh, and he grasps my hand under the table. Suddenly, Finnick's face is close to white, and I know he's having a flashback.

"I should probably start cleaning up," Brooke says, flipping her silky brown hair behind her neck, and picking up the plates and glasses.

"I'll help you in a minute, okay? Thank you, Brooke."

"Oh, it's no problem whatsoever. I'm glad I didn't have to eat by myself today."

I give her a smile, and then focus back to Finnick. He's standing up now, and walking in circles, his face contorted with pain.

"Fin, look at me. You're okay. I promise."

I grab both his hands, and then let go, wrapping my arms around him. At first, he feels cold, and he's shaking and there are silent tears running down his face. He's like this for a couple minutes, and I know it's scaring Brooke, because she has to leave the room.

"Finnick, you're going to be okay. It's over."

None of my words seem to be helping, so I do what usually helps, and I place my lips on his. After a moment, he's kissing me back in an almost desperate manner, and I pull back because Brooke's still upstairs, and could come down any minute.

"Your sister...is upstairs," I state rather bluntly.

He nods, with beads of sweat on his forehead, and tears still in his eyes. I reach up with my thumb, to brush them away.

He simply plants a soft kiss on my forehead, and I know what he's trying to say. He doesn't even have to say it.

_I love you._


	11. The Wedding

As time passes, Finnick's trips to the capital become more frequent, and he ends up staying there much longer than he has before.

While he is gone, I help my mother around the house. Cassandra and I somewhat reconcile, but we definitely are not on good terms yet. I don't see her much. She's very busy planning the wedding. She was asked me if I would walk her down the aisle, in place of our father, and I of course told her I would be happy to.

Her wedding is two days from now, on Sunday. Finnick left for the capital on Monday, and has been gone since. I haven't heard much from him, aside from a phone call on Wednesday. The days are long, and I find myself impatient as I go about my day, my mind filled with thoughts of a green-eyed-boy.

For the wedding, Cassandra decides to wear my mother's dress she wore on her wedding day. I have never seen it, but I hear it is lovely.

In district four, we have a tradition where the groom is not supposed to see the bride a week before the wedding. Richard isn't around the house at all, which is fine by me. I don't dislike him, but I also do not particularly enjoy his company.

"Should I wear the pink pearls? Or the white ones?" Cassandra asks me around noon on Sunday morning.

"Pink ones. They look nice with the white." I smile at her softly.

Cassandra's white dress goes to her knees. It is loose-fitting, with a lace back. My mother's mom made it herself. It's a beautiful dress, and it looks very elegant on Cassandra's long body.

I get myself ready, wearing a long, yellow dress that cascades to the floor. My mother had originally worn it, but she is much taller than I, so it was a good length on her. It is lovely, with a skirt that looks like a waterfall. I leave my hair down, letting it fall down my back as it normally does. As I look in the mirror, I no longer see a little girl. I feel beautiful, but at the same time, like I am playing dress-up in this fancy dress.

Once I am finished getting ready, Cassandra makes me do her hair. Her hair is thick and curly, like mine. I braid a crown around her head, and she traces her fingers over it once she is done.

"Beautiful. Thank you, Annie." She reaches out to hug me, and we embrace for a moment, before we make our way down the road to the reception hall.

The reception hall is a small building where there are gatherings. Mostly the gatherings are weddings or "toastings". It consists of two rooms. One has a long aisle to walk down, and the other has a bigger room where the eating and dancing typically takes place.

My mother and I set up the hall last night, with permission from the mayor, of course. The eight benches have bouquets of daisies on the side-Cassandra's favorite flower. There is a white cloth laid down where she can walk on the hard floor, and everything looks perfect.

People begin piling in, and Cassandra and I wait in the back room where the dancing is to take place.

The doors open, and I walk the bride down the aisle, holding her hand in mine. I can't help but smile, looking at Richard. He is beaming at the sight of Cassandra. I kiss her on the cheek as I hand her off to her soon-to-be husband. I give Richard a quick hug, and find my spot beside my mother.

I find myself scoping the crowd for Finnick, even though I know he won't be back anytime soon. Last time I heard, he would be back on Tuesday at the latest.

The rest of the day is a blur. After the ceremony, we eat. Then, as the bride and groom sign papers, we visit. Many people go home as the dancing doesn't begin for a few hours. Many people don't stay for dancing, as just close friends and family are there to enjoy that time with the bride and groom.

I go home for a bit, only because it is so close from the hall. I sit down and read a book for a while, and decide to go back once the clock reads six-thirty.

I make my way into the hall. I dance with Brooke for a bit, and she's all giggles tonight. The music shifts to a slower song, and I decide I need to get something to drink.

I make my way across the room, to the corner. I'm stopped while pouring punch, by hot hands that sweep my hair across my neck. The hands begin to slide down my shoulders, but a massive grin appears on my face, and I throw my arms around this boy I've been thinking about all day.

"I thought I'd never see you again," I admit, nuzzling my head into his chest.

"I never knew I could be so happy to see you," He pulls away, brushing my hair out of my face. He grins a huge grin, and even in the dark I can see his green eyes sparkling. In the low-lit room, he is perfect. I cannot see the grief and guilt in his eyes or even the way his mouth becomes flattened when there is a silence.

"Dance with me," I take his hand, pulling him into the group of people dancing to the slow melody.

His hands slowly find their way around my waist, to the small of my back. My hands slide over his shoulders, and I tuck my head under his chin. We say like this for many songs.

"I could stay like this forever" he whispers in my ear, planting a soft kiss on my neck as he does so.

"Then lets," I say with a smile.


	12. Goodbyes

_(I'm so sorry I've been unactive! This is a short chapter, but I'll be trying to update regularly, and I'll hopefully be starting some new stories along with this soon. If anyone has suggestions for fanfics you'd like me to write, let me know! Also, please leave reviews to let me know what you think ! I don't want to be boring you all, so let me know what I can do better. thank you all. xxx)_

Finnick is gone for all the days I need him here. He is gone on the anniversary of my father's death. He is gone on my 15th birthday. He is gone when Brooke is upset and can't sleep. We all need him here.

He does get to come back the few days before the reaping, before he has to leave again. This is the hardest time of year for him, because it's just a reminder of his time in the games.

Finnick sits in front of a tall palm tree, his feet in the sand. I sit in front of him, my head resting back on his chest. We breathe in and out in sync, and I can feel his heart beating steadily in his chest. If I could only hear one thing for the rest of my life, that's what it would be.

Our right hands are entwined, and with his left hand he plays with my hair, which is so long it touches the sand. My other hand rests on his knee, which is covered in sand.

"I think I'm going to cut my hair tomorrow," I inform Finnick, not looking up.

"But I love your hair," he complains.

"Don't worry, I'll leave some for you to play with," I say, craning my neck back to look up at him.

"Then I guess it's okay." He kisses my shoulder once, making me shiver, despite the heat and humidity.

"I'm going to miss you so much, Fin. Please don't go," I plead, but know it will do no good.

"I would do anything to stay."

"Can't someone else mentor this year? Maybe Mags?"

"Snow said he wants me again this year, he made that pretty clear."

I groan quietly to myself, feeling extrememly frustrated.

"I'll be back before you know it." Finnick rests his head on top of mine, and I take a moment to remember this.

The reaping is the next day, and Finnick stops by my house in the morning to wish me luck.

"I'll be back for you, Annie Cresta."

"You better be," I look up into his eyes, which are welled with tears.

"I love you."

"I know," I try to hold back a smile. "And I love you too."

He takes my face in his hands, and I go up on my tiptoes to plant a soft kiss on his lips. It's a quick one, but it's certain. That I am his, and he is mine.

I don't get called for the reaping. It's a boy from the south side of the district-but a career volunteers for him in a heartbeat. The same goes for the girl. Before Maggie can get to the stage, a volunteer runs up to the microphone.

The next two weeks are dreadful. The only place I see Finnick is on the TV screen in town. My heart drops when I see him engaging with the girls around him. He really should have been an actor. That's what I have to convince myself-that it's all an act. My mind is torn, and I find myself crying myself to sleep many nights during those days before the games.

The games itself is worse. I imagine what it's like, being trapped in that arena. I imagine what Finnick is feeling. I'd like to think that he's gotten somewhat used to life in the capital, but I know that it's a hard thing to get accustomed to. I wish there was a way I could get a hold of him, but I know they would never allow that.

The games begin, but I don't watch. I can't watch children, some younger than I, kill eachother. I can't watch children lose their innocence and humanity. I can't watch children, with lives ahead of them, get their lives ripped away from them like a rug from under their feet.

I spend my days either at home, working on projects with mom, or else I take visits to the Odairs, and I sit with Brooke while she works on tying the net she is working on. Brooke is now 11, and it will be next year that she is entered in the reaping. We sit in silence, and just eachothers being there makes our axiousness not as bad. It feels like it was when Finnick was in the games last. We know he will come back to us, but when he does, he will not be the same.


	13. Goodnight

When I see Finnick again, my heart drops. Under his green eyes are big, black and blue circles. There is a scratch across the corner of his eye. He looks at me, almost as if he's waiting for me to pity him.

My arms find their way around him as he walks into my empty house.

"What did they do to you?" My voice is quavering. I have his shirt bunched up in balls in my hands, clenching my fists. I know I cannot do anything to whoever did this, but I wish I could.

"Nothing. It's no big deal." His voice is empty. I step back a second, facing him. I take my hands from around his neck.

"It is a big deal! You're beat up head to toe, and you're not yourself Fin. I can't watch you lose yourself like this!" My voice is now almost at a yell, yet Finnick shows no response.

"Then don't. Just leave me, and go be with someone who you don't have to worry about taking care of. You deserve better, Annie."

"You don't get it. I don't _want_ to be with anyone else."

He looks at me with a blank look, and I want to shake him out of this.

"Well I guess you don't have a choice."

With that, he turns and leaves the room, slamming the door behind him.

I sit there for a second, but then go to the door, turning the corner down the dark street.

"Finnick!" I call after him, but he doesnt look back.

I begin running, but he turns the corner on the path to the beach. He's going up to the bluff.

I take my time getting up there. He knows I'm following him. It's really windy, and I can hear the waves crashing against the shore even from here.

Finnick stands, facing the water. I can just see the side of his face and body. The top of his hair is bouncing up and down. As I walk closer, I wait for Finnick to turn toward me. He doesn't. He continues to look forward, and he speaks before I reach him.

"Annie, please just stay away from me. I'm not worth it." He's dead serious, and I can tell there's more to the story than he's giving me.

"I'm not leaving here until I get some explination for why you're acting like this," I keep stepping toward him, until he is forced to face me.

"Fin, talk to me," I plead, reaching for his hand. He pulls his hand away from mine.

"I wish I could."

My heart begins to beat fast, and there is a lump in my throat the size of a boulder.

"You don't love me anymore," I feel like it's less of a question, and more of an answer.

"Annie, that's not it. I love you with more than my heart can hold." His voice is less than a whisper, and he's down by my ear. I can barely hear him over the crashing waves, but I know what he said.

"Then what's the problem?"

"That is the problem. I can't let them get a hold of you...if they did…" he trails off, pulling away from me once more.

There is a long silence, and I look up at Finnick, who's head is looking down at the dark ground. I want to reach up and wipe away the dark bruises under his eyes. I want to wash away the grief from his eyes.

I reach up for his face, and brush my thumb across under his eyes. In the moonlight, I see and trace the deep cut beside his left eyelid. He winces as I do so, and I slide my hands down his bare arms. I slip my hands to his waist, running my hands down his sides, and up to his shoulders. There, I rest my hands, tracing my thumb in circles around his collarbone.

Finnick lets out a deep sigh, and his hands find my waist. They slide up and down, left and right, and in circles. My heart begins to flutter, and the boulder in my throat seems to have disappeared.

"Let's go back to my house," Finnick suggests, his head nuzzled beside mine. By his house, he means his house in Victor's Village, where no one lives. His mother and Brooke opt to live in their own house.

We sneak back across town, careful to avoid the few peacekeepers that are out at this late hour.

Finnick leads us into the back door of his extravagant home. He flicks the living room light on, and we walk up the huge staircase, my hand is his. He pulls me into his room, and flicks the light on. As he does so, I go to sit on the bed, my head against the wall. I'm still shaking, so I pull the thick blanket over myself, in hope to contain the shivers.

Finnick slides in beside me, and he pulls me onto his chest.

"You cut your hair," he observes, playing with the ends of my hair that is now just past my shoulder.

"He noticed!" I giggle a little.

"I like it."

"So do I," I smile up at him, and his eyes light up a bit.

We sit there, in the cozy bed. I fall asleep on Finnick's stomach, balling myself up against his side. It's the best I've ever slept.


End file.
